Z Nameless, Faceless and Gone  ONESHOT
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: This is an idea I had for a oneshot after watching the episode Nameless, Faceless. A year after Haley's death, Prentiss realizess that she can't live with her feelings for Hotch anymore. This story is pure angst.


_FYI—this story is not a happily ever after, so if that's what you're looking for, unfortunately you came to the wrong place. I was watching the first episode of Season Five last night, Nameless, Faceless, and got this idea for a ONESHOT. It takes place approximately one year after Haley's death. _

_As I was sitting here writing this little story, I was listening to a new CD I got from iTunes. The lyrics to this song seemed to fit, so I'm including them. (I'm totally pimping Thriving Ivory here, because I love them! LOL) The name of the song is Some Kind of Home._

_You don't say much_  
_You don't say any more than you have to_  
_Have you lost touch_  
_With the ones you adore and sought after, yeah_  
_And you don't know why_  
_Yeah, they put a bullet through your heart_  
_And told you not to cry_  
_You know life should be beautiful_  
_So come on out of your shadow for while_

_I wanna know where you go_  
_When you're dreaming_  
_I wanna see what you see_  
_When your eyes close_  
_And when it all goes down_  
_Will you have a place to run?_  
_Cause I don't know and I can't tell what you're thinking_  
_So we'll just drive through the night_  
_Till we find some kind of home_

_I swear I never mentioned this to anyone_  
_So go on, you can tell me what it is_  
_You see I, I'm barely hanging on to you_  
_And the way I feel, yeah, somethings got to give_

_I wanna know where you go_  
_When you're dreaming_  
_I wanna see what you see_  
_When your eyes close_  
_And when it all goes down_  
_Will you have a place to run?_  
_Cause I don't know and I can't tell what you're thinking_  
_So we'll just drive through the night_

"Agent Prentiss, could I see you in my office, please?"

Emily looked up at her Unit Chief. "Of course," she said as she stood. The paperwork on her desk would have to wait. She'd known this was coming, and she hadn't been looking forward to it, but she was glad to finally be getting it over with. She followed Hotch to his office and closed the door behind her.

He walked behind his desk and motioned to the seat across from him. "Have a seat." After she did as he'd requested, he sat down in his own chair and held up a piece of paper.

"Why did you put this on my desk?" he asked.

Emily met his gaze, forcing herself not to blink. "Because a transfer request can't get approved until it's been signed by the present supervisor," she pointed out.

Hotch studied her face for a moment. "I'm sorry; I guess I wasn't specific enough. Why didn't you _hand_ this to me?" he asked, rephrasing his previous question.

"Because I was afraid you'd try to talk me out of it," she answered.

"Of course I'm going to try to talk you out of this," he told her. "You want me to sign a transfer for a desk job. Do you really think you're going to be happy, Prentiss, with a job that's not in the field?"

"It was the only thing available," she told him.

Hotch's brows furrowed. "The only thing avail—did something happen?" he asked.

"No," she told him. "I'm ready for something…different."

"You love this job, Emily. You're one of the top agents in the bureau. Why would you be willing to move to a desk job?" he asked.

She shifted uncomfortably under his stare and then cleared her throat. "I can't…work for you anymore," she said so softly he barely heard her.

He sat there for a moment confused. "If I said or did anything to upset you in any way…" His voice trailed off.

Emily cleared her throat as she stood. "Are you going to sign my transfer or not?" she asked.

He looked up, studying her face for a moment. "_Sit down, _Agent Prentiss," he said his tone so firm that it was almost angry. "I am still your supervisor. And if you want me to sign this transfer, then you're going to have to give me a damn good reason to."

She complied, returning to the chair across from him.

"Talk to me, Prentiss," he said. "Was it…Los Angeles?" he asked. It had been a rough case for all of them; none of them had walked away unscathed. He'd thought they were all dealing with it, but he could be wrong.

She closed her eyes as she shook her head.

"Prentiss—"

"I fell in love with you," she said quickly, looking away. "While you were still married. Do you know what it's _like_…to be in love with someone who's is still married? Do you know the amount of _guilt_ that you have to carry with that?"

He didn't answer her, but she wasn't _looking_ for an answer.

She laughed angrily. "And then…I walked into your apartment—your blood filled apartment—and nearly had the life knocked out of me when you were nowhere to be found."

She turned her head to meet his gaze, and she'd taken him by surprise. He'd really had no idea.

Her voice fell to a whisper. "I listened to you say goodbye to your wife in the hospital; I heard you tell her you'd spend the rest of your life making everything up to her, and still…" She forced her voice to remain calm. "I loved you. I've watched you grieve her death for the past year…and still…_I've_ loved you." She lifted her eyes to his. "It's time for me to move on. Away from the BAU. And away from _you, _Hotch." She stood up once again. "I've tried to stop loving you…but I can't. And it's hindering my job in the field. I can't…be an effective agent under these circumstances." Emily took a deep breath. "If you're not going to sign my transfer, then I'll have my resignation on your desk by the end of the day."

And with those last words, she was gone.


End file.
